On any given day, all that’s usually required is a thick skin, a sense of humour (both UK and US versions), endless stamina and a well-developed survival instinct. Although we now have access to the inner sanctum, we’re still fans and Hood is our role model. He’s worked for the Jukes since the beginning of time. He’s seen band members come and go. He’s weathered the storm through good times and bad. He’s probably heard “I Don’t Want To Go Home” a million times, but he’s still there smiling, clapping and singing along at the side of the stage every night, his enthusiasm undiminished by the ravages of the road and the passing of the years. With any luck, we’ll be doing the same for as long as it lasts. As we drifted from town to town, watching the Jukes in action and seeing the various audiences having a good time, we gained an enormous amount of personal satisfaction from knowing that we played a major part in making it happen. Above all the other advantages, benefits and perks of daily life on the road with the band, this was our greatest reward.
CREDITS
Naturally, no Jukes UK Tour Report is complete without an attempt to acknowledge the people we met along the way. Those who followed the tour around, those who only saw one show, those who came from Europe and the States to be there, those who only had to cross the road to the gig, those who’ve been faithfully attending shows for 25 years, those who saw the band for the first time in 2002. Long-time friends, passing acquaintances, faces in the crowd. Respect, handshakes, hugs and kisses as appropriate. If you’re not listed below, it doesn’t mean you weren’t there. Nor does it mean that we didn’t have a meaningful conversation, buy you drinks, make important decisions, begin a torrid affair, engage in a fist fight or borrow some money, it’s just that we don’t remember. On tour, life is a blur at the best of times, there are many preoccupations, diversions and distractions and nobody gets our full attention for very long. Sorry, what was I saying?
So, a big Jukesville UK greeting goes to: Debs, Laura and Maureen (the three sisters); Reeves and Mortimer (two cool cats); Dan (Sticky bookings); the always fragrant Jools (technical consultancy) and husband Steve; Greenpeace Neets; backstage Clive; Fergus (taxi to the door); Magda (better late than never); Ann and Dirk; Miss October (who survived two journeys in the van); Ellen (sick note); Kirsten and Sally; Margaret and Peter; their son Rhys (a future Juke in the making); Sharon and Paul (you can put us up again anytime); Mike and Norma; the unforgettable (this time) Rita; Eileen (who made it to Wembley); Richard H and Richard M; Paul and Linda; Paul L; Ross, Alex, John M and John H (the Scottish connection); Marcus and Emily; Neil and Murray (the tabs); Pam, Steven and Mike; Alan and Sara; Scott; Jeff and Sue (and their hungry friend); Jeff M (first time since 1985); Giacomo; Chris; Harry and Gill; Nick; the girl with the stetson and her friend (whose names I can’t remember or have never known); promoters Alan and Bryn, the various local crews and PA guys who helped us out, Graham, Paul (“actually, I like that one”), the legendary Hood (we are not worthy) and last but certainly not least, Professor Jeff Kazee, who gave me a snappy title for this thing.
Naturally, the largest vote of thanks goes to Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes, for coming over for the third time in 18 months and forcing us into submission night after night. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, these guys are the real thing. In a musical climate where style continually triumphs over substance, they constantly remind us about the importance of talent, spontaneity and emotion in live performance. While they wouldn’t normally undertake such an extended series of gigs back in the States, the economics of touring in foreign parts dictate that as many shows as logistically possible are crammed into a comparatively short time frame, in order to keep everything afloat and prevent financial losses. (“I would love to have taken another two weeks over here and stretched things out, but you really can’t,” said Southside during our interview). While this arrangement favours their supporters, it doesn’t allow the band members much flexibility. Once the tour is under way, the schedule is relentless and there’s no escape. On a typical show day, opportunities for sightseeing, relaxation or personal privacy are rare. Most of the time is spent travelling on the bus, checking in and out of hotels, hanging around backstage or searching in vain for something to do when the concert is over, the pubs are closed and there’s nothing on TV. For the Jukes and a million other travelling bands, the ability to endure hours of boredom and discomfort is part of the job and they live for the time when they hit the stage, when they feel most alive, when their gypsy lifestyle makes sense for a couple of hours. They’re an international treasure, a priceless living artefact, practitioners of a lost art and the musical equivalent of a top-quality traditional British pub. The Druids don’t deserve them and they certainly don’t deserve us, but I guess we’re stuck with one another. We never get tired of it and we can’t get enough of it. Next time the Jukesville Express heads for the UK, we’ll be ready and waiting. Are we on tour yet?
MIKE SAUNDERS
Copyright (c) 2002, Mike Saunders – all rights reserved
